Caution
by Awesomepossum328
Summary: Caution. She breathed in the name, it was a part of her now—it was her now. Caution. As in Caution: Wet Floor. Caution: Choking Hazard. Caution: Toxic
1. Caution: Hot Surface

**Hey guys, I'm starting a new fanfiction. It's about Annabeth, and yes Percy will be in it, just not quite yet. I hope you guys enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Percy Jackson series**

**I asked Rick for the rights to PJO.**

**He asked me if I needed a ride to a mental hospital.**

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**Caution**

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Ten million dollars.

That's what we're talking about here. Ten million, seven zeroes total. Enough to buy you an all expense paid trip to out of the hell you live in. And Caution, well, she needed that. Perhaps she'd be gone by her sixteenth birthday. She's a Saittarius—the archer, not far off from murderer. Caution might be three feet from such a title, not that it bothered her though. Her heart had become to hard for it to even cause minor damage.

Caution was in quicksand, and she kept struggling, sinking herself deeper. She's a thief. A robber. An outlaw. There's not really any other way to put it, just that there's a special spot reserved for her when she dies.

It's night time, when it happened, the time Caution hates the most. When 90% of the population is robbed, killed, abused or tortured in other unspeakable ways. The New York sky looked like someone stuck a giant syringe into it and sucked out all the color. Dead black.

Huh. Dead. That didn't sound too bad to Caution right now.

The sky may have lost it's will, but it was never dark. The streets were still lit with night activity, and Caution was a part of it. She moved down the sidewalk, staying close to the street, and away from the alleys where the horrible happens. Caution honestly doesn't mind death, but not yet, not tonight. Tonight she had business to take care of.

She moved along the street, her head down, black hood up. No one pays her any mind, no one should. A New York breeze catught her hood, and drew it back for a few moments before Caution ripped it back up. If anyone had taken the chance to see her eyes, they would've spotted fear.

No. Not fear. Caution. That's all. Intense caution. As if she's afraid of stepping on the wrong piece of pavement. It's in her eyes, as they dart about the cursed street, looking for something. She saunters down the sidewalk, stumbling every few steps. Some sophisticated business man would wonder what she's _on_, but any person taking a more oberservational look would realize she's faking.

No one ever suspects the drunk to do something when not in a dark alley. She hangs a left onto Sycamore Street, the people fade away, no one's at Sycamore this time of night. Except for bad people, but she's not afraid. Rumors go around about her, everyone's eyes fill with fear when she's in sight.

Her walking pace evens out, her path straight, without the illusion of intoxication. The people here will fear her more if she's in a sober place. Not like they didn't fear her anyways, but people know alertness is key, and drunkness is quite the opposite.

"Hey, baby." A man, calls to her from an alley, drunk. He wolf-whistles at her tight-fitting black skinny jeans, and combat boots, the black hoodie hid her face from his booze impaired vision, "Now what's a pretty thing, like you, doing out so late? Why don't you come over here, and let me take care of you?"

He comes towards her, a sheepish grin plastering his face, and she lowers the hood. Even in his hammered state, he recognizes her face. He knows her legendary gray eyes and blonde curls, and he realizes the only thing he'd ever get out of her is a pickpocketing.

"Caution?" He asks, his eyes bloodshot with alcohol. "I am so sorry. I got—I got business in the works, I can pay you for your toubles. Just please don't tell Caster about this."

Caution twitches at the mention of Caster. "No problem," she tells him.

And Caution walks into the night, leaving the man to look for another hit.

Caution feels like she's being followed, a quick look over her shoulder confirms her suspicions. A small black 2002 Honda Corolla is tailing her. She sees it out of the corner of her eye, it's driver hidden by tinted windows. She stops. She knows this car. It pulls up next to her, confirming her recognition with a key-scratched "C" on the drivers door. She knew there was a matching one on the other side.

She walks in front of it, and to the passanger's doors. Caution pulls open settles herself inside. She smiles at the driver and he offers a lopsided grin in return.

"Where ya been, Traveler?" She asks as they start to drive again.

"Where d'ya think?" He laughs.

Laughter was rare in their world, and it was most often fake. Everything was fake, including the money half the time. But this job they were about to pull, it was rare, and the pay was huge. After Caster got his share.

They drove in silence for an eternity, until Traveler pulled around back of the New York Museum of Arts and Design, as Caution pulled out a map from her jacket pocket. She opened it against the console of the Corolla, and grabbed a flashlight from her other pocket. She twisted the flaslight on, and gave it to Traveler to hold, so she could prevent the old map from closing in on itself.

She points out multiple things to Traveler, telling him the plan of action. He nods, but she knows she'll have to remind him of every step, every five minutes. Caution asks if he remembered her backpack. He gives her a look with an eyebrow raised, and his lips pressed. Caution chuckles and fishes her bag from the backseat, and shoulders it.

They both get out of the car, and sneak up the back fire escape, creeping on their toes to prevent sound. Traveler hits a bad spot, and the rusted metal creaks. They both pause, expecting the worst, but no one comes. She glares at him, and he mimes a nervous chuckles, fearing more noise.

They reach the roof, and Caution moves towards an electric panel, one that controlled top lighting, but if reqired correctly could be the key to their theft. She takes calming breaths, nervous at what she's about to do. She looks at Traveler who gives her an encouraging nod. She slowly opens the case, praying that it wouldn't set off an alarm. She tenses, preparing for her own arrest, but once again luck plays on her side.

No switch inside is labeled, but Caution doesn't need that. She takes the flashlight and holds it in her mouth, as her finger set to work on the wires. She rewires the routing, turning off the security alarms, red lasers, security camaras, and police notifications. She hopes she did it right, but there was no time for checking it.

"Come on Caution." Traveler whispers, as he heaves opens a sky light. "We've got, like, five minutes before security realizes what we've done to the system. Hurry—"

Caution chuckles quietly. "Five minutes?' More like fifteen with that crack squad they've got working down there."

Traveler smiles, but still motions her to move faster. They secure a harness around her mid-section, and snap on a rope and lock. Traveler places a metal stand onto the roof, an ingenious invention, it locks itself onto the brick roof at the push of a button. Caution looks back to Travler, as he secures the rope around the stand. He tugs on it a bit, then nods to her.

"Look, Traveler," she begans, not looking to sentiment. "If anything happens, get out."

"An—Caution." He caught himself. "Nothing will happen, you're fine. We'll get the diamonds to Caster, and then skip town and find our families.

Caution faked a smile. Maybe he would, she knows he had a brother to find, but she can't go back home. Home doesn't want her, but she still nods in agreement.

"Okay, Caution." He said as she stands by the open sky light. "Whenever you're ready—as long as it's in the next ten seconds."

She didn't let him finish her sentence, before she fell forward, lowering herself into the room. She tugs back on the rope, holding back multiple profanities as she spots a single night guard on duty in the room. Caution had checked the guard schedule nearly thirteen times! She had been so, well, cautious. Maybe thirteen really is an unlucky number.

She's about to tug the rope again, to have Traveler push the button on the machine to pull her up, but then she spots the diamonds. In a crystal clear case, they sparkle in the night time light, and Caution wants them. She imagines all they could buy her, but one thing stands above the rest—her freedom. Caution wants her freedom.

She pulls three times, a signal to Traveler, to lower her down more. She starts slow, then drops six feet, only mere foot from the glass container. She looks up, and feels Traveler pulling on the rope, two pulls. A malfunction. Something happened. Something's wrong. Caution is yanked up a few inches, before she drops back to her same place. She know's what's wrong.

The machine broke, and now Traveler is holding on for dear life, trying to pull her up.

She remembers telling him to leave her if something happened. She curses him for his huge heart, and looks back to the diamonds. He needs those diamonds to get back to his family. She slowly unties the harness from her waist, and grabs onto the rope when it releases her. Five tugs from Traveler. A question. _What the heck are you doing?_

She doesn't respond. She lifts the glass from the diamonds, and looks back to the guard, he still doesn't notice her. She smirks, and moves to pick up the diamonds. Caution reaches down, and secured a single diamond into her pocket. Her left arm grows sore from holding her body weight with no assistance. She thinks about switching hands, but that's much to difficult.

"Hey!"

Caution looks up. The guard. He's turned around, and he's seen her.

"What are you doing?!"

_This is for you Traveler. _

Caution can almost here Traveler protesting her action, can almost see him up on the roof, telling her not to be an idiot. But Caution lets go to the rope, and falls onto the diamonds, breaking the glass and their stand. That's how unstupid she is, the single diamond still resting in her pocket.

"Stand down!" The guard is pointing a pistol at her chest. She raises her hands in defense. "Down on the ground!"

Caution gets on her knees, and lies face down on the cold museum floor, her hands on her head. She can hear the guard walking towards her. Caution is smart; smarter than him at least. She times it all through, intense calculations going through her head. She smiles and breaths easily.

He's near her, she can feels the heat of his hands near her own, ready to restrain her with handcuffs. Not today. Caution moves quickly, turning her body on the slick flooring. Her feet sweep the guard's feet out from under him, and he falls. Caution stands and runs, towards the front door. There's no where else to go, and constant studying of the layout benefits her as she knows the quickest route.

As she breaks open the glass on the front door, an alarm goes off. She jumps at the sound, swearing loudly that the electric box she rewired had only accounted for the diamond room. She sprinted off into the night, not paying attention to anything, until she turned onto a busy street.

She raised her hood, and blended into the crowd.

* * *

Caution returned to the warehouse late that night.

She was wet from a slight drizzle, about half an hour before she returned. The warehouse was a depressing place. Half of the windows were blown out from Caster's target practices, and from local kids, taking dares to see who would actually knock out one of Caster's windows. Abandoned crates lay about, serving as makeshift furniture. The only real furniture was in Caster's office, upstairs, where he did a certain kind of business Caution wanted no part of.

Caster didn't come to greet her. Maybe he wasn't here. Maybe he didn't she's failed.

Caution saw Traveler sitting on a crate, his head in his hands. She could see he had been crying. His black t-shirt was ruffled, and his curly brown hair was messier than usual, as if he had been running his hand through it, worrying. She smiled, knowing that it was probably for her, that he probably felt guiltly. A police radio sat by his side, he had been listening attentively, waiting for the arrest of Caution to be announced.

"Hey Traveler." Caution hopped onto the crate next to him.

"Caution!" Traveler engulfed her in a hug. "Thank god you're all right. If I had lost you, one: I'd be sad. Two: Caster would've killed me. He doesn't even know I'm back yet."

"Good." Caution relaxed a bit. "'Cause this is all I got."

Caution held out the small diamond from her pocket, and Traveler's eyes widened at it. He was at a loss for words, but he pushed it back into her pocket.

"You can't tell Caster about that, okay?"

"What?" Caution was genuinely surprised at Traveler's disobediance. "Why?"

"Because." Traveler said. "I don't know why yet, it just isn't feeling right to tell him."

Caution shrugged, "Okay..."

Caution and Traveler sat in silence for a little longer, until Caster came out of his office, with an angry look on his face. Caution waves a hello; a hopeful gesture he didn't ask—or already know—about the diamonds. He doesn't wave back, he kept his arms crossed on his chest.

As he gets closer, coming down the stairs to them, she can tell he's furious. His feet are bare, as though she dragged him away from a nap—or a bit of his favorite business. He wears a white t-shirt and jeans. White, the color of purity. Pfft. As if. There's a tattoo of a caduceus with snakes crawling up it on his left forearm; even the snakes are glaring at her.

"Now." Caster speaks. "Let's talk about how you failed."

Yeah. He knows.

"Look, Caster," Traveler speaks up, "it just wasn't a good day. We'll go back and get them later."

"No, you wont." Caster says, shaking his head. "They moved the diamonds to another, government guarded, location until the day of the Design and Art Gala, in three weeks time."

Traveler gulped, knowing this wasn't going to end well, "We'll just hit the Gala then."

"That is also a government event." Caster said. "_He _wants them, and he'll get them. Caution might be able to pull it off, but you're dragging her down."

"Dragging her down?" Traveler asks, jumping down from the crate.

"Yes." Caster answers. "And we can't let that happen."

Caster quickly pulls a handgun from his back pocket and aims at Traveler, firing two quick shots, before Caution can protest. Traveler falls, Caution can see they're both flesh wounds, but that doesn't prevent the pain. Caster kneels down beside Traveler, whispering somthing unaudible to Caution into his ear. Traveler mutters something back, and spits at Caster.

Caster wipes the saliva from his face, and pushes his thumb into one of the bullet holes. You've never heard anything like it. Caution was scarred when she heard such a scream of pain. She couldn't bare it any longer when Caster pushed on the other as well.

"Luke!" Caution rang out. "That's enough!"

Caster suddenly stopped pushing and stood to face her, the gun still hot in his hand. "What did you just say."

"You—" Caution swallowed. "You heard me."

"Oh is that so?" Caster moved towards her. He spun her into his arms, and rammed the gun into her ribs, a killzone shot. "You think you can call me by that cursed name? You think you're so special? You think I just can't replace you're talent just like that? I should shoot you, and leave you to the alley men. You think it's wrong that I shot your _precious_ Traveler?"

Caution looked to Traveler, but she also felt the barrel of a load pistol, "N—no."

"Good." Caster let go of her. "Because, I don't want to have to replace you, you're too special. Him, on the other hand, he's expendable."

A loud bang, and a bullet was wedged into the skull of Traveler. Caution closed her eyes at the sound, and turned away from Traveler and Caster.

"Get some rest, Caution." Caster started back to his office. "You'll be hitting up the Gala in three weeks, I suggest you plan."

Caution wouldn't even look at Traveler, but she knew what she would do. She's kill Caster, and avenge Traveler. She'd find Traveler's brother, and tell him what happened. She had to remember the his brother's name. _Conner. Conner Stoll._

She still wouldn't look at him, but she whispered to his spirit, "I'm so sorry, Traveler. I'm so sorry, _Travis."_

She would make Caster pay for what he did to Traveler. She was Caution. The legendary Caution, she had given the name to herself. Caution, it fit perfectly for her. Caution. She breathed in the name, it was a part of her now, it was her now. _Caution. _As in Caution: Wet Floor. Caution: Choking Hazard. Caution: Toxic.

She was dangerous, and she needed Caster to know that. He needed to know not to mess with her.

_Caution: Hot Surface. Do Not Touch_

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**So I hoped you guys liked it. Read and Review. Sorry for any spelling and grammar errors, I'm bad at those. **

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**Never ever stop being such Awesome Possums! :oD**


	2. Caution: Hot Water

**Hey guys, to answer your question I will be making a chapter two of Caution, and this is it! My mom read my first chapter, because she just likes to read my stuff. I somehow got tricked into even telling her I write on here...;) Anyways, she read it, and she was just all like: "Wow. You're writing scares me." So yeah, it'll get scarier, this writing will be a little darker, go into some deeper stuff. I find it a refreshing change.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Percy Jackson series.**

**Rick Riordan is a man who leaves people on cliff-hangers.**

**I'm nothing like that, I'm a girl!**

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When Caution saw the news report, she forced back the tears back into her hardened heart.

There was no crying in the world she lived in, despite the constant want to do so. The anchor spoke of a theft attempt on the diamonds, but the thief only managed to steal a single jewel. Caution gripped the stone in her pocket, flinching when the woman said that despite it's small size, it was of the most value.

Caution prayed Caster wouldn't see this.

The noises coming from Caster's office told her, he wouldn't know for a while. It helped her relax a little, but the constant cloud of fear and uncertainty never left her. And she knew it never would, it had been there for nearly fifteen years.

Caution directed her attention back to the old television set, the only real non-cardboard piece of furniture in the warehouse, as she heard a voice she recognized. The man's face was familiar in the blurry television screen and bad cable connection. She couldn't quite place him, though.

"Yeah, I know her." The man's voice was gruff, it was killing her to not remember him. "I saw her last night."

Caution's eyes widened, it was that drunken man from the previous night, the man who tried to mug her. This was bad. He knew her face, and he knew who she worked for. She would get caught, and she would be arrested, and so would Caster. This wasn't good, Caster would kill her for this.

"Her name is Caution." The man spoke to the camera. "Most people know her by that name, at least. I wouldn't be surprised if that wasn't her real name." Caution swallowed. It wasn't.

"Is she a thief?" The reporter asked.

"Yes."

"Is she a solo act, or does she work for someone?"

"See, that's just the thing," the man chuckled. "She used to have a partner, I think his name was Traveler or something, but rumor has it that the man they worked for thought he was slowing her down. That her partner was the reason the job failed. Word on the street is that he got rid of him."

The reporter gulped, suddenly becoming more aware of her surroundings, "Got rid of him, you say?" She asked. "Please elaborate."

The man drew a finger across his neck as an explanation. "Rumor has it that if Caution don't pull off her next job, she's following Traveler's.

"What's the man's name?"

"The guy they work for?"

The reporter nodded in confirmation.

"Caster."

"Well, thank you for your time, but I'm afraid that's all we have. Back to you, Jan." The reporter suddenly jogged off scene, motioning for the camera man to hurry, before the shot screened back to the reporter.

The anchor, Jan, was frozen on screen, before she regained her television composure, "Well, thank you Jan, for that interesting report. That man also gave descriptions of Caution, Caster, and Traveler. If you have any information on their whereabouts, contact the New York City Police Department. And now to Charles with sports."

Caution felt sorry; sorry for a man who tried to rob her.

No matter what he had done to her, and she did hate him for it, but if Caster were to get a hold of him... not even Caution hated anyone that much.

* * *

And Caution switched off the television, rising, stretching her back as it cracked with tired bones. She looked around the warehouse, there wasn't much to do. She could train, but it'd just be a repeat lesson she already had perfected. She couldn't go outside, in fear of being arrested. There wasn't much to do in the warehouse.

As she scanned the room for an activity, her eyes caught on her backpack. It was a simple bag, made for hunting, but it was solid black, made for stealing. It was light, and could easily carry a few pistols, not like she'd ever fire one again, especially seeing Caster mercilessly shoot Traveler.

It might be the right time.

She could grab her bag and leave. She could put on her hoodie, and perhaps even dye her hair. Her fingers fiddled with the old charm bracelet on her wrist, the only reminder of her late brother. Caution often wondered why she hadn't trashed the thing yet. It was the only thing that connected her to her old life, a life she couldn't return to after what she did.

They would welcome her back, but she could never welcome herself after the accident, after her brother's death. She still often had nightmares about it, about the blood, about the pistol hot in her hand. Caution pushed the thoughts away, and snatched her bag and hoodie.

She zipped up the jacket, throwing the hood up to temporarily cover her blonde curls until she dyed them a different color. She threw the bag over her shoulder and walked to the warehouse door, the one with bullet holes in the windows, another incident that haunted her.

She looked back to Caster's office, wondering what happened to the old friend she cared for so dearly, though she knew the answer. A storm happened, and there was no lightning without thunder. She walked out the door, slamming it behind her, just begging Caster to hear. Just begging him to kill her, to end the pain.

* * *

Caution was going to have to rob someone.

It was in her nature, and she needed money. Caution stared down 42nd Street, wondering who she should mug. She wasn't going to do it the way that man had done it to her. No. Sometimes, even brawn has to bow to brains. Caution may have been a thief, but she was a pretty damn good conman too.

Caution walked into the bus station across the street, following the boy she was going to con. His custom _Louis Vuitton _sneakers, and thick wallet sticking out of his back pocket were just begging for it. She followed him to the ticket line, looking rushed.

She tapped him shoulder, "Hey, do you mind if I cut, I'm running late and I really need to get a ticket."

The boy flashed a blinding grin at her, tossing his latino black curls out of his face, "Sure thing, _mi amore,_ anything for such a pretty girl."

He let her ahead, but it didn't stop there, "I'm Leo."

"Mia." Caution made up a name on the spot, immediately hating it.

"Well, Mia, if you'd ever like-"

"Next!" The ticket-taking lady called Caution up.

"Um, can I get a ticket for Brooklyn?" Caution asked.

"Sure. That'll be twenty dollars." The woman, impatiently, held out her hand.

Caution swallowed. This was it. She could back-out now, claiming it was just a big mistake, saying that she really didn't want a bus ticket. Caution reached into her backpack, feeling around for an inexistant wallet. Caution froze, as if she were panicking, and she dug deeper into the backpack, looking inside it now.

"You've got to be kidding me." Caution whispered, loud enough for everyone to here. Caution turned to the woman. "Um, funny story." She said, but the woman wasn't laughing. "My wallet is gone, and it was probably stolen, so if you can just make an exception this one time-"

"No exceptions!" The woman huffed. "If you can't pay for your ticket, then get out of my line!"

"But you don't understand." Caution summoned tears, laying it on thick. "My grandmother is dying, and I need to see her one last time, and if I don't get to her in Brooklyn in four hours, I'll never see her again. Please."

"No exceptions!" The woman said, again.

"But-"

"No. Exceptions."

Caution sighed out of the line, looking depressed. _Come on, Leo. _She looked over her shoulder, noticing he was watching her, giving him one last sad look before turning away. She had made it nearly two feet.

"Wait!" Caution smirked, as Leo called her back.

"Yeah?" She turned to Leo, whipping a fake tear away, sniffling.

"Look, if you need help, I can pay for your ticket..." He rubbed the back of his neck, shyly.

"Really?" Caution smiled. "You'd do that for me?"

"Well, it seems like it's pretty important to you." He returned her smile. "You know, to see your grandmother and all."

"Yeah, it is." Check and mate.

Caution walked back to Leo, as he pulled out his wallet.

The ticket lady rolled her eyes, leaning against a hand, "Twenty dollars."

Leo opened his leather wallet, and Caution's heart leapt. He was loaded. She could make out seven hundreds, as he pulled out another hundred, this one she'd let him keep. She reached out, snatched his wallet and bolted from him, not even registering the look of surprise on his face.

He wasn't following her, she knew that much. After she made it a few blocks, she flagged down a taxi, and casually flashed the Benjamins. She asked him to take her to the fanciest hair salon he knew of, and he did just that, responding with a "Yes, ma'am." Caution leaned back against her seat, practically fanning herself with the money, as the cab never dropped below 90.

Back at the bus station, Leo Valdez was still standing at the front of the line, frozen. What just happened? He offered to buy a girl her bus ticket to see her grandmother, and she stole his wallet. The ticket lady was snapping her fingers in his face.

"Kid?" She snapped her fingers again. "Kid?"

Leo shook out of it, "Wh-what?"

"Kid, you just got conned, now get out of my line, you're holding it up."

* * *

A brown-haired Caution walked down 22nd street, her hood down.

No one paid her any mind, no one should. Caution was about to snap her fingers for a taxi to take her to Queens, where she really wanted to be, when a television playing a news report caught her eye in a store window. She stopped, placing her hands on the glass, getting closer for a better view. A sketch of her was full screen.

"This is the criminal known as Caution." The female anchor said. "We will now go live to the New York Chief of Police for his plan of action as to catching her."

The screen switched to a shot of a large burly man, with a mustache that moved when he spoke, "The diamond stolen is the most expensive of the group, pricing at five point six billion dollars." Caution's heart leaped into her throat as her fingers closed around 5.6 billion dollars, resting in her hoodie pocket. "If anyone has any information as to the location of Caution, or anyone associated with her, or the location of the diamond, please leave an anoymous tip with us.

"In the meantime, while we wait for tips, we have our best and brightest on the case to finding Caution. We believe that if we find her, we'll find the diamond."

Caution walked away, hauling down a taxi, and quickly taking a trip to queens. As she sat in the backseat of that cab, she hugged her charm bracelet to her, praying that her brother would watch over her, praying that God would watch over her. Because she couldn't take it much longer, she was slipping

* * *

"Sir?"

A small bald man knocked on the office door of the newest detective in New York, one might even say he was the best despite his amateur status. The detective sat at his desk, filing paperwork for lame traffic cases, and minor thefts of Twinkies.

"What is it, Henry?" The detective asked, not really paying attention.

"Chief wants to speak with you."

"Okay, tell him I'll be there in a moment."

"He means now, sir." Henry said, sternly. "He told me not return without you."

The detective sighed, "All right, I'm coming."

The two men walked in silence to the chief's office, both wondering what was so important. Was it a promotion? Or a firing? Was it a raise? Or a paycut? Silence was sweet, but also deafening. Henry pushed the door open for the detective, and nodded to the chief before leaving.

"Did you need something, Chief?" The detective asked.

"Yes." The chief was facing away from his detective, taking in the view from a full window wall of New York.

"Well, what is it?" The detective took a seat in front of the chief's desk.

The chief turned around in his chair, and slid a file across his desk, where the detective caught it with ease.

"You're in luck." He spoke. "You've got an assignment, Mr. Jackson."

_Caution: Hot Water_

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**Hey guys, sorry this chapter is a litte short, but it's like midnight and I'm exhausted and I've got to wake up early tomorrow... yay me. Anyways, sorry for spelling errors, and read and review.**

**Author's Advice: Paint me a picture.**

**What I mean when I say by this, is that you have to metaphorically "_paint a picture"_ for you reader. This is done through plot, detail, and character development. The more you have, the clearer your painting will be!**

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**Never ever stop being such Awesome Possums! :oD **


	3. Caution: High Voltage

**Sorry this one was taking so long, but it was pretty hard to come up with, and to fit everything in that I wanted in this chapter without it being too outrageous.**

**Anyways, I have been asked to explain who everyone is, which I, in fact, already did. I will not be blankly writing it out in the author's notes, because I feel that takes away a bit of the mystery. Reread chapters one and two, and it will tell you (you might be able to figure it out just on chapter one, because I mention Caution's hair color, which is a dead giveaway, and the actual real names of Caster and Traveler). I hope that helps, and I'm sorry that it was a little unclear.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Percy Jackson series. **

**But someday I'll get it—and it's little dog too! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!**

* * *

Run.

Run, Caution.

She was always running. Out of breath, and out of time. It was all in the life of Caution, and she accepted it. She didn't like it, but she accepted it for what it was—after all, it was because of her mistakes that she was who she was. No. Not who she was—_what_ she was.

And what she was wasn't very pretty.

But she accepted that too.

She was lost in thought, until the taxi driver snapped his fingers in front of her face. When she came out of her daze, he was rubbing his fingers together, requesting his money. She looked out the window, finding a familiar place as a sight to her sore eyes. She handed him his rightful pay, and left the taxi with her backpack safely on her shoulder. The driver drove off, grumbling about her lack of tip.

Caution's heart was beating faster than it ever had, except during the accident. Now she was having to face her past, and what she'd done to cause her to leave it behind. Deep breaths may have been beneficial during robberies, but they did her no good now.

She walked on the cobblestone path to the old townhouse, hoping she had the right one. With little space in between the homes, they were practically duplicates of each other. She looked to the golden plated number on the door. 1705. This was it, if her memory served her correctly, and it always did.

Before she could decide against it, her body moved on it's own and rang the doorbell. Caution nearly bolted with she heard the muttered response as footsteps came to the opposite side of the door. When the wood slung open, no words were spoken, just a look of shock from the homeowner, and a look of guilt upon Caution.

It took a moment before he slung his arms around her, "Annabeth."

And it took another moment before she hugged him back, "Grover."

"You're alive." The words were simple in her ears, yet they had some much meaning.

"Yeah."

He suddenly released her, "where? Where have you been? Ever since—well, you know—" Caution nodded. Yeah. She knew. "No one's seen you. We thought you were dead."

Caution didn't say anything. The gray cloud of guilt over her only darkened.

"Where have you been?" He asked again.

The atmosphere went cold. Caution could tell him the truth. Warehouses. Museums. Off with a drug-dealer thief who was probably already looking for her. Or. She could tell him a lie, like she'd always done. She had lied to some many people before, he shouldn't be any different.

"Annabeth?—"

"Nowhere." Annabeth tried not to meet his eyes. "I've been nowhere."

And that was the truth. She had lost herself when she'd been with Caster, and now that she was separated from him, she was slowly gaining herself back. Little by little, she was trying to get rid of Caution, and she really hoped she would. But deep down, even she knew that was impossible.

"Well, come in, Annabeth." He smiled warmly at her, as if not caring that she wouldn't admit to him. "You look tired, and hungry." A growl from Caution's stomach confirmed that. He smiled wider. "I've got dinner on the stove."

Dinner was light, as Grover had only planned to cook for one. Despite constant offers to cook more food, Caution turned him down and took the smallest bit she could to sustain herself. She had just appeared, six years missing, with a different hair color, and she couldn't just take all his food and leave.

She wouldn't deny that she was starving, after all, it had been a long time since she had a good home cooked meal. During dinner, she mostly poked at her cheese enchiladas, occasionally taking a bite. She could feel Grover's eyes on her, still deciding if it was really her. Her freshly-dyed brunette hair may have been a small throw-off, but with gray eyes like that, it was no one but Caution.

"You shouldn't have left, you know."

"Grover, don't even start."

"All I'm saying is that you left, just when everyone needed you."

"No one needed me."

"Yes, we did. After what happened, you just disappeared. We thought you had gone to clear your head—and that was okay—you've done it before, but when you didn't come back..." Grover trailed off.

"You thought I was dead?"

"Yeah."

It was silent after that. His words hung in the air, suffocating Caution as it constantly reminded her how badly she had hurt everyone. She continued picking at her food, as Grover continued shoving it down. She would never say it, but she couldn't help but feel, that maybe, everyone would be better off if she was dead.

The rest of dinner was eaten without much speaking, other than the casual conversation about the weather and how much she'd grown. It was late—well, not really, it was only nine o'clock, but time had become just another illusion to Caution; just another obstacle in her daily life.

Caution slept in the guest room, but it took until midnight for her to actually allow herself to sleep. In truth, she was afraid to close her eyes. The memory of Traveler's murder was constantly on her mind, and it would haunt her until the day she died. So, probably within the next week.

He had to know by now—Caster, that is. That she had left, his top thief (now his only thief). Caution had been a constant source for the money, and money was resting in her left jacket pocket. Her fingers closed around it. Guilt was written on her face, shrouded by the darkness of night. The jewel was just another reminder that Traveler was dead.

And just as she had expected, she relived Traveler's death through her dreams, roughly waking up around six in the morning. Grover was sure to wake up within the next hour or two, and fear would keep her awake until then. She pulled her knees into her chest, and tried to clear her mind.

An hour later, Caution hadn't moved from her position, only to be jolted by the slamming of the front door. Caution immediately flew to the floor, her hands positioned in fists in front of her face, ready for a fight. She slowly crept out of her room, pressed up against the walls, jumping out into the living room in hopes of surprising a prowler, but there was no one there.

She walked into the kitchen, the be greeted by only a note scrawled on a grocery planner:

_Annabeth, _

_Went to work, didn't want to wake you. Cereal is in the pantry, be back for lunch. _

_-Grover_

Caution placed the note back on the table, and walked over to the pantry. She found a whole grain cereal with five grams of fiber, which would be disgusting to most people, but she was glad that Grover ate her favorite cereal. She poured herself a bowl, without milk—fiber didn't taste very good when it was soggy—and sat at the table to eat alone

The only sound was of her dipping her spoon into the cereal and shoving it into her mouth. But there was another noise. Caution fell still, placing her spoon onto the table, and listened for it. There it was! She heard it again: a small beep. It was very faint, and if Annabeth hadn't been trained to hear the quietest of noises, she wouldn't have noticed it.

_Beep... Beep... Beep..._

Caution slowly stood from her seat, trying to locate the origin of the sound. It was faint, but Annabeth followed it, going where her ears directed her. She was light in her steps, hoping not to make the wooden floors creak, as she walked towards the living room. She was getting closer she could feel it.

It was coming from the couch. She stared at it, as if trying to see through it, as she got down on her knees to be more level with the sofa. From there, she tried to find the exact spot of the beeping, and finally decided that it was coming from the right end. Zeroing in on it, something occurred to her.

Her backpack was on the right end.

She dove for the backpack, digging through it's contents, and finding nothing. When her things were all laid out and checked, Caution felt very confused. The beeping was still there, yet all her things were clear. Then on hunch, Caution picked up her backpack, and lifted it to her ear.

_Beep... Beep... Beep..._

The beep wasn't inside her bag, it was her bag. Caution felt through the lining of the fabric, finally closing her fingers around a small, but obviously there, object. The fabric of her bag had obviously been cut, and sewn so well it wouldn't be noticeable unless she had been looking for it. She pulled the object, still inside her backpack, to her ear, closing her eyes to listen.

_Beep... Beep... Beep..._

It was definitely making the noise. She gripped the bag in her hand and bolted into the kitchen, setting it on the table near her forgotten cereal. In a panicked rush, Caution searched through the drawers, finally finding a pair of scissors. She found the object with her hand, and cut through the fabric, removing the object.

She held it in her hand, it's quiet little beep still sounding. It was small, almost tiny, and black. It was thin, and would be unnoticeable when she had been wearing the backpack. She recognized the object. It was a tracer, small enough to be held, but big enough to be hid in secret. It was about four years old, and she had even used it herself on missions.

It was Caster's. He'd been tracking her.

It was as if he always known that she'd do this one day; that she'd run away. He was good, scary good. Caution held it between her fingers, and smirked, as if she were looking straight into the eyes of Caster. Then she crushed it. For any newbie, that would've been it, but Caution knew better.

Despite the tracer being destroyed, Caster had his ways, and the tracer may still work. She walked out the back door, ran three houses down, and dumped it into their trash can. She was practically leading Caster to their door, and almost felt bad about it. Almost.

She smiled as she walked back, a sense of caution being wiped from her. She allowed her arms to swing in happiness, as she walked back to Grover's house. She was going to beat Caster at his own game, for Grover had slipped her one casual little detail last night at dinner.

_"Annabeth? Would you mind emptying the trash can from that bathroom into the one in the kitchen? I want to get it out tonight—tomorrow's trash day. _

She yawned as she walked through Grover's front door, and headed to her bedroom. Six hours of sleep wasn't under the required eight, and Grover wouldn't be home for a few hours. She laid down under the covers, and closed her eyes, and sure enough she woke up a few hours later. But not because of her dreams, Grover had walked, noisily through the front door, slamming it as he came inside.

She jumped up, and walked out into the living room, giving him a hug. They chatted casually over a small lunch of Thai takeout. Caution hadn't let it show, but she was happily surprised that Grover remembered her favorite foods. Throughout lunch, an eerie feeling set over her.

Caution had felt this before, the feeling that someone was staring at her. She stood up, and crept towards the window, carefully looking out it, trying not to be seen. There was a car outside the house, and she was almost sure that she had seen the house during her earlier trip outside.

"Annabeth?

"Ssh!" She shushed him.

He stood up, "What're you—"

"Get down!"

Grover dropped down to the floor, "What's going on?"

"There's someone watching us."

"What?!"

And there was. There was someone staking her out. The car was a dark blue, and obviously too pricey for this neighborhood. The car would've looked empty to anyone who wasn't paying attention, but Caution had lived this life for a very long time.

There was a man in the driver's seat, but he was sitting low on the floor. However he had to see somehow, and had a pair of binoculars placed ever-so-slightly against the windows. Nevertheless, they were visible. And to Caution, it was a dead giveaway.

Perhaps it was some druggie hired by Luke to beat her a bit, and drag her back?

No.

In the reflection of his right side mirror—the mirror opposite to her—she could see the image of translucent red bulb, with a light inside. Caution had seen too many of those not to know what it was. A police siren—attachable and detachable to the outside of a car roof—used for undercover police cars.

Her eyes narrowed. He was a cop.

And he was getting out of his car, and was walking to the front door of Grover's house. Caution swallowed, and turned to Grover, trying to solve it out in her mind. He looked at her, waiting for her judgment. She licked her lips in nervous anticipation.

She spoke fast to him. "Okay. Grover, I'm not here, no matter what that man asks, I'm not here. Do not let him in, and do not give him any clue to where I could be."

He looked at her with a mix of confusion and shock. It was all coming out. He didn't know she was Caution; he didn't know she was a top-class thief. He only knew her for what she was when she was a child, and she certainly wasn't that innocent little kid anymore. Caution sprinted to her bedroom and hid in her closet.

The doorbell rang, and Grover opened the door to find a tall young man in dark jeans, a green button-up so dark that it could've been black, and a black suit jacket. His black hair was messy and shaggy, and he was obviously young, perhaps only seventeen or eighteen years old. Despite his young age, he was all business.

"Sorry for bothering you," the man spoke, "but I am Detective Percy Jackson from the New York City Police Department," he flashed his badge, "has this girl been here lately." Grover refused to react as he held up a well drawn profile picture of Annabeth.

"No." Grover shook his head. "I don't recognize her."

Percy's hand suddenly dropped to his side, "are you sure?"

"Positive. I don't know her."

Percy's eyes suddenly traveled over Grover's shoulder, locking eyes on a black backpack, resting on the living room sofa. His suspect, Caution, had been spotted with such a backpack multiple times. Grover didn't take notice of his sudden zone out on their conversation, and Percy looked back to him before he could.

"Don't lie."

"What? I'm not lying." Grover crossed his arms.

"I have reports from the houses near you that a girl had entered this house."

"I'm not lying." Grover insisted, faking offense.

"May I come in?" Percy asked in an authoritative voice.

"May I see your warrant?" Grover held out his hand, in a similar voice.

"What?"

"Your warrant." Grover repeated. "Or do you not have one? If I see you on my property again, without one, I will call the police. I'm sure they'd love to hear one of their own is violating my fourth amendment."

Percy pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow, and nodded his thanks for Grover's time, then left. Grover closed the door, leaning against it in relief for a moment, before straightening up in a huff. Someone had some explaining to do. Grover walked towards Caution's bedroom, and knocked on the closed door.

"Annabeth? He's gone."

She opened the door, and threw her arms around him, "thanks, Grover."

He smoothed her hair in a brotherly way, "what have you gotten yourself into?"

She release him. "Nothing, I can't handle," she insisted, "but I have to go now. If the police know where I am, and Cas—never mind. I'm leaving, Grover. Thanks for everything."

Then she walked past him, not even giving him a chance to object. She grabbed her backpack from the living room couch, and started walking towards the back door. Just as she was about to turn the knob, the front doorbell rang. She dove out of sight, as Grover opened the door, ready to drive the detective off again, but it wasn't the detective.

"Can I help you?" Asked Grover.

"Um, yes, is, uh, Annabeth here?" Caster. He said her voice in a tone of uncertainty, as if he'd forgotten her true name.

"Who?"

Caster wasn't as patient as Percy, "Don't even try. Where is she?"

"I don't know who you're talking about."

"My tracer went off location here. She's been here." There was a sudden beeping in Caster's pocket, and he pulled out a handheld device, suddenly looking smug. "What luck," he said, in a sarcastic voice. "She's near. I'll be back."

The door closed, signally that Caster was gone. Caution waited a moment to ensure that he wouldn't come back, and then bolted to Grover. He turned to her, fear suddenly tracing his eyes. They gripped each other's forearms, and Caution could feel Grover holding back tears.

"Grover," she tried to banish the panic from her voice, to calm Grover, but it wouldn't work, "I need to you leave. Go to a neighbor's house or something. Don't let him see you, and everything will be fine."

"Annabeth? Who is that? What's going on?" Her panic transferred to his voice.

"I'm sorry." And she really was. "Just get out of here, please. Don't come back for a day or two."

Grover nodded, understanding that it was serious. They both ran out the back door, and Caution watched with relief as Grover disappeared into a neighbor's house five doors down. Caution was about to run away, but she spotted Caster's car with it's keyed engraving of a _C._

She smiled, as she darted quickly across the seat, threatening her exposure if Caster saw her. She made it across safely, and picked the lock with a hairpin. She ducked inside the car, and felt the small space behind the wheel. She found the key that was hidden there, and pushed it into the ignition.

As she drove away, without a license at that, Caster wasn't following her. She was thankful for that, he was probably still searching for her in that other house after he found the tracer trashed. She had already broken the speed limit, and felt a wave of security as she prayed for Grover's security too.

After five hours of driving, she was running low on gas as she was driving through a town, and she spotted the local police station. She laughed to herself, as she parked in front of the station, skipping away from the car as she continued on foot.

Why? It's a no parking zone.

* * *

The world simply hated Caution didn't it?

She had hitchhiked, and taken taxi's another two hundred miles through New Jersey. That was her first mistake. Taxis. She shouldn't have taken so many, it was too expensive, and the money she had stolen was running out. She had tried to get a hotel, but she never had enough money.

Caution wandered the streets, which was not a smart move on her part. It was late and dark, but Caution thrived in the dark. She had already been attacked by two local gangs, and her protective status back in New York didn't travel down with her. No matter.

She had beat and embarrassed the two groups, and word carried fast in New Jersey. Now every criminal in that town, and all the nearby towns, knew of the grey-eyed girl who could fight off an entire gang. After her last fight, she made it two blocks, before she found the welcoming sign.

_Welcome to Lambertville, NJ_

She didn't even make it to the population amount before she facepalmed. Caution was ready to beat herself back to New York for her stupidity. She hadn't checked what town she was in, and now she had spent the night fighting gangs and wandering about, when she could've been resting.

She knelt down by the sign, removing her bag from her back, and unzipped it. She searched through her bag until she found that old ripped piece of notebook paper. She smiled, laughing, as she rugged the paper to her. She regained her composure as she flagged down a late night taxi, spending her last twenty dollars on her last hope.

It was well past midnight when she reached her location, deep in the woods. The taxi had only taken her to where the main road ended, but the driver promised there was only about half a mile left. She had nodded her thanks, shouldered her bag, and set off walking.

Despite it being so late, the lights in the old wooden cabin were still lit. The faint smell of delicious roasted deer meat hung in the air, most likely from dinner. Caution was definitely in the right place. She took a breath, before she banged her fist against the door.

There was a scuffled of confusion inside, visitors were probably few and far between. Caution bit her lip, waiting. When the door opened, Caution was greeted with a slight smile of and old friend and the smell of beer. They both stood there for a moment, before Caution spoke.

"Thunder." Caution smiled.

"Caution." Thunder said her name as if it were a fond old memory she couldn't wait to be rid of. "Been a while."

"Yeah."

"Well, come on in." Thunder gestured her in.

Caution walked through the door into a woodsy type home. She noticed everything was carved from wood as she walked into the foyer, followed by Thunder. Caution offered a thankful smile to Thunder, but she didn't return it, as Thunder motioned for her to sit.

"So, tell me, _Annabeth,_ what the hell did you do to piss Luke off this time?"

_Caution: High Voltage_

* * *

**So. I hope that was good. I hope I haven't lost all those who have been reading. I hope you guys enjoyed, and thanks to all those who reviewed, favorited, and followed. Over 4,000 words, so I hope that made up for not updating. **

**This is definitely different from what I usually write, definitely a little bit darker and different way of perceiving Annabeth and everyone else. I hope you enjoyed the little Grover moment. And most of the names relate to who they represent... FYI...**

**Anyways, Read and Review!**

* * *

**You guys are such Awesome Possums! :oD**


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